Strange things happen in the city, I’m lucky that I have been spared quite a few of them. When the family lived in Primrose Hill, in London, the war was on. My father was only a young boy when he … Continue reading
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There are no words here, only numbers. It is Boston’s Holocaust Memorial. Towers reach up with numbers etched in the glass and soar upwards, just as the smoke did in the chimneys when human ash became snow across Europe. It … Continue reading
This gallery contains 6 photos.
I love going to market. As a child I remember the weekly trip with excitement and awe. Each week our local market magically became brand new. A land yet undiscovered! Baby chicks one week, hens the next. Men threw fish … Continue reading
It’s confession time. I eavesdrop. I do it quite well. I go out, sip a glass of wine and appear to be fully engaged at my table, all the while, my left ear has stretched three inches and is listening … Continue reading
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There are expressions you grow up with and have no idea where they came from, or what they really mean, you just use them. Such is the case of Lord, love a duck! I quite often come into the kitchen to … Continue reading
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Leeds Castle is the stuff of fairy tales. It is a castle of breathtaking beauty and surprises. But, I have to say up front, I would rather take a picnic basket and enjoy the grounds rather than the interior of … Continue reading
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Why is it that sometimes it just feels so good to whine? I am dying. I don’t feel good. Why is this happening to me? Ted took one look at me and my constant stream of complaints and hightailed it … Continue reading
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William Shakespeare “There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance: pray you, love, remember. And there is pansies, that’s for thoughts.” Hamlet, Act IV. The pansies and the sweet peas are really doing their own thing this year in the city garden. Sometimes … Continue reading
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When I was down beside the sea, a wooden spade they gave to me to dig the sandy shores….That was the first poem I ever memorised along with another, a really odd choice, the melancholic poem by Verlaine.. Il pleure … Continue reading
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One of the things that I love about London is that there is always a new discovery waiting just around the corner. This time I thought I had found my own little treasure, but apparently all my friends already knew … Continue reading
A camera travels 